Canadian Blue: Reclamation
by brooklynrhyno
Summary: Captain James "Logan" Howlett once again finds the Pirate Queen of Omega, but this is not a happy reunion. How much of his past wil he have to rely on in order for Aria to have a future? Takes place asfter ME3 (Destroy). Rated T for some language, violence and possibly M later for adult situations. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**_DISCLAIMER: All characters are property of their respective owners (Bioware, Marvel Comics). I own nothing. Just playing with some toys. _**

_The fleets converged over the third planet from the sun. The battle was joined, and the Citadel opened. A wave of red light issued from the Crucible, bathing the galaxy simultaneously in death for the Reapers and life for the Organics. The Savior of the Galaxy was never found, and those left behind had to pick up the pieces, starting their lives anew. _

* * *

_Three years later . . ._

Omega was dead.

Bodies were strewn all over the station in various poses, almost as if it were some macabre art exhibit. Lifeless eyes staring at the last thing each victim ever saw before passing into the afterlife, mouths still agape issuing soundless screams for eternity. So far, the only sounds on the ancient mining station were the air recyclers and the incessant buzz of various neon lights. The doors for Afterlife, the seediest club in the galaxy, were open and allowed a view straight through from the street to the bar. It was a final, terrifyingly morbid case of "the lights were on, but no one was home".

None of the bodies showed signs of struggle, nor were there any obvious signs as to the cause of death. No bruises, lacerations, not even contracted muscles. Each corpse was relaxed except for their death masks of terror filled eyes and soundless screams. Elcor, asari, batarian, salarian, turian, human and vorcha all shared the same fate. Young and old, male and female, were all gone. No shots fired, no signs of a defense or retaliation were evident. It was tragic, regardless of the fact that it was Omega. Even a cesspool such as this deserved better.

The automated distress beacon was flashing on the security console near the shuttle port. The sound of boots walking on the metal decking echoed in the small corridor. The boots and sound stopped at the console, and a hand reached over to deactivate the beacon. Help had come, but it was too late. The beacon had been activated four days ago, and they were still too late. The owner of the boots looked around, having foregone an environmental suit since the sensors registered a breathable atmosphere. He closed his eyes and took a series of deep breaths through his nose, taking in the scent of the place. Death was the only scent he could determine so far, so he stopped sampling the air and moved on.

A beep came from his Omni-tool, and he looked down at it through the dim lighting. The final scan report had come in from the _Tai Shan's_ sensors: zero life signs. Seven point seven five million people were dead. Thankfully, the air recyclers had been functioning and the rotting death stench had not begun to permeate the environment yet. He took a deep breath and started down the corridor again. He had seen much death in his life, and he did not look forward to combing the rest of the station.

"Captain Howlett?" came the call over his comm link. The man raised a hand to his ear, opening his end of the link. "This is Howlett. Go ahead."

"Sir, sensors indicate that the power core of the station is still active, but it's not putting out stable readings. Do you want to send an engineering team down to investigate and secure it?" Logan looked around at all of the bodies again and smirked to himself. "Unless you plan on coming over here with me and performing final rites for all of these people, go ahead and get it squared away. Take _Excalibur_ team with you for ground support."

"Understood. Wong out." Logan made his way to the access door to the main thoroughfare, having to bypass it with his Omni-tool. Once the door unlocked, it opened part way, allowing a victim that had been propped against the other side of the door to fall through to his side. It was a turian male, with the same look of terror and silent scream on his face. Logan stepped over him, continuing his journey into the station. He looked up and saw that Afterlife was still open, bodies strewn along the stairs leading to it and out around it on the streets. Surprisingly, no air car or shuttle wreckage was evident. He figured that if so many people were dead, then depending on when they died, they would have crashed vehicles they were driving. If it all happened simultaneously, which the lack of evidence for struggle or retaliation supported, then there should be wreckage somewhere.

Winding a path over and around bodies, he walked up the stairs to the club. The holograms of the flames that lit the outer lounge area of the club were still flickering, and music could still be heard, albeit much lower than it usually was. He made his was to the door, having to bypass this one also. He said a silent prayer that there wasn't a wall of corpses on the other side of the door, waiting to bury him. As the door slid open, he found his prayers answered. There were some bodies near the door, but from their positioning, it appeared as though they made an attempt for the exit, but gave up just shy of it. Logan looked around, sniffing the air, hoping against hope that he would find something besides death.

He took a few steps forward and went to the bar. He hopped over and landed behind it, looking around for something to dull the ache in his heart for all the victims surrounding him. He found ryncol, shard wine, but no beer. What he wouldn't give for some regular, cold, earth-brewed beer. He settled on the ryncol, taking a swig straight from the bottle. It felt like hot barbed wire going down, settling in his gut like a lump. He burped, and then took another swig. It didn't feel any better the second time around, and his accelerated healing was already processing the liquor, so he didn't get the beginning of a buzz. He put the bottle back and made his way walking around the bar.

His footfalls were slightly masked by the music still playing. There were no dancers gyrating on their platforms or on customer laps, only an Alliance captain stepping amongst the dead. He had seen death so many times it rarely fazed him anymore, but there was something deep in his soul that was troubled by this massacre. It was bloodless, but it seemed more vicious than anything he had seen before.

His circuit of the club ended near the steps leading to Aria's loft, where she held court and ruled Omega with well-manicured iron fist. His heightened hearing picked up a slight buzzing beneath the music. He used his Omni-tool to hack the music program and finally shut it off. The buzzing continued, so it wasn't feedback from any of the speakers. He looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. He sniffed the air, and then he closed his eyes to focus on the sound. He narrowed it down to the top of the stairs leading to Aria's loft. He ran up the stairs, and the buzzing got louder. Getting to the top, he saw Aria's body, only it wasn't like the others. She was sheathed in blue biotic energy, as if someone else used a Stasis attack and left her there. Her face was frozen in the same death-scream that all of the other victims had, but her eyes seemed to be moving back and forth, looking around her.

"Oh, hell!" Logan groaned. "Aria!" He ran to her and fell to his knees next to her. He grabbed her shoulders and raised her off of the floor. "Blueberry! Talk to me!"

Aria's eyes fixated on him, and they got wider. He could feel her being to shake in his hands, and the stasis field began to waver. "C'mon, girl, snap out of it!" he whispered fiercely. Her eyes rolled back into her head and the stasis field dropped. Her body went limp in his arms and he held his head to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. He found one and silently thanked God for it. "_Tai Shan_ from Howlett!" he barked into his comm unit. "Med team to Afterlife! I've got a survivor!"

"Howlett from _Tai Shan_, this is Dr. Shapiro. Confirm: you found a survivor?"

"I didn't stutter, junior!" he yelled back. "Get in here with a med kit and techs now!"

"Understood, Captain. Med Team Two is inbound to your location. ETA is three minutes."

"Do better." He growled back. He looked down at Aria, the Pirate Queen of Omega, and wondered how in the universe she survived whatever destroyed her kingdom. He held her head to his chest, cradling her until the medical team arrived. She was cold to the touch, and he couldn't shake the feeling that whatever happened here was even worse than he could imagine.

* * *

It was the middle of the ships night cycle. Captain James "Logan" Logan had finally fallen into his bed after twenty hours of investigating and searching. He sent in several teams to Omega to continue the search for more survivors, but later ordered everyone to return to the ship for rest. They would start fresh in the morning and hope against hope that they would find some answers.

"Captain Howlett, Admiral Hackett is on the QEC for you."

He snatched his pillow from under his head and flung it at the speaker in his quarters. "Go away!" he growled. He wasn't scheduled to wake up for another three hours, and he meant to get those three hours.

"Sir, he's insisting that he speak to you about Omega and the survivor." Came the reply from the yeoman.

"And I insist on you takin' a message, bub." He mumbled into his other pillow as he turned back over.

A pause, and then, "Sir, he said to tell you that if you don't come and speak to him, he is going to release the photos of the holiday party from '72 to the extranet." The yeoman said. James eyes went wide at that and he leapt out of bed. "Fine, be there in five." He barked at the yeoman. He grumbled to himself as he looked for his clothes, "Rassumfrassumphotosalwaysgonnaholdthatovermethatm onkey headed . . ."

Logan got his uniform on in record time and made his way to the lift. He punched the button for communications deck, taking the slow ride up to the upper decks. It seemed to be Alliance standard operating procedure to have torturously slow elevators in their ships, from frigates to dreadnoughts. It was probably something that they borrowed from the Citadel blueprints, no doubt, as if traveling at such a slow rate of speed made humanity equal to the other Council Races. Stepping out of the lift, he turned left down the corridor and opened the door to the QEC. The light blinking on the console told him that the yeoman was correct, and that Admiral Hackett was online waiting for him.

He hit the button and Hacketts image coalesced on the platform. Beaming from the Sol System all the way out to the Omega Nebula would have taken far too long by conventional means. Having now replicated the Cerberus based quantum entanglement communications technology from the _Normandy_, all the ships in the Alliance fleets were suitably equipped for instant communications.

"Steven," Logan mumbled. "How are ya', sunshine?"

Hackett glowered at him for a moment. "James, I know that you have a special standing with the Alliance, and that your clearances are practically at SpecTRE status with us, but could you please show some decorum and follow protocol when we're on official channels?"

Logan lit up a cigar he had stashed in his pocket and puffed a great plume of smoke into the air. "You disturbed my beauty sleep, _Steven_. So the answer is no."

Hackett set his lips in a firm line and seemed to struggle to keep himself under control. "Well, seeing as you need all the beauty sleep you can get, I'll try to keep this brief." Logan squinted at him through the smoke he was producing and smirked.

"Yeah, yeah. What do you need, Admiral Fussypants?"

Another sigh came from Hackett. "I need to confirm your initial reports concerning Omega. Are you certain there were no other survivors?"

Admiral Hacketts image in the QEC continued to shimmer as Logan began to pace back and forth in front of it puffing on the cigar. He ran a hand through his short gray hair and turned back to face the admiral. "That's what I said, Steve. After we found Aria, I combed that place with three forensic teams. The ships sensors had to be recalibrated to allow for any other biotics that might have pulled the same possum trick that she did. Once we did that, we still came up empty. She's the only one."

Hackett seemed to have trouble accepting this, as he rubbed a hand over his haggard face. "Seems odd that she was the only one who survived. Still, according to the intelligence we have on her, she is a matriarch, so I guess she would have a few tricks up her sleeve." Logan chuckled at that and smiled at the admiral. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Tends to happen with those of us who are a little long in the tooth."

Hackett looked at him with a knowing smile. "Speak for yourself, _grandpa_." He said. Logan smiled and moved a hand towards the controls. "Yeah, yeah. I'll update you if we get anything else from tomorrows sweep. Howlett out." He shut the QEC off and stood there in the communications room. Almost eight million people and there was only one survivor. As amazing a woman as Aria was, he was hiding his discomfort with the facts as they stood now. He needed answers, and he knew that he might not like them when he found them.

"Security to Sick Bay! Repeat: Security to Sick Bay! Bravo Suppression Team to Medical!" came the call over the ship wide comm system. _Bravo_? He thought as he made his way to the lift that would take him to the medical unit. _That's our biotic squad_. "What the hell's going on, Sick Bay?" he called out on the comm. "Captain, Aria's awake, and she's gone ballistic. You might want to get down here too!" Shapiro responded. "Already on my way, kid." Logan said, tossing his cigar in a nearby receptacle. "hold it down and don't let anyone in there till I get there."

"No promises, captain. Sedation protocols have been ineffective, and I don't have much protecting me but the k-barrier at this point." He replied. Logan punched the button for the med unit and the doors closed. "Maximum track." He called and, disengaging the safety protocols in the elevator, while simultaneously launching the lift at five times the normal speed. It was a special feature that he had integrated into the ship after he grew tired of the slow elevators. How anyone got anywhere without this was a mystery to him.

The elevator slammed to a halt, dropping him to the floor. He picked himself up and sprinted through the opening doors. He rounded the corner and reached out to the Bravo team members that were stationed outside of the med unit. "Stand down!" he yelled, grabbing a couple of them and shoving them out of the way. "Stand down! I'll take it from here!"

One of the soldiers turned to him, a freckle-faced young man that hadn't had the pleasure of meeting him face to face yet. "Sir, Hostile Biotic protocols state-"

Logan spun on his heel and got in the biotics face. "'Protocols'?" he growled. He looked around at the other team members, then back to the kid. He was new, and there was obviously something lacking during his orientation when he came aboard. "Listen, ya little snot nosed punk! I'm a ranking captain, with X-Division clearance. Admiral Hackett is the only one that can even _dream_ about making a suggestion about how I do things! You can take your 'protocols' and shove them up your-"

A crash was heard from inside the med bay. Logan turned and looked at the dent in the door, which was causing the emergency lock down to short out. He snatched the new guy by the collar of his armor and tossed him out of the way. "Make a hole, I'm going in.", he barked at the other men, and they jumped out of his way. The lock on the door was shorted, and it would take too long to try and bypass, especially since there was no engineer on the deck. Logan whipped his head back and forth, cracking the vertebrae in his neck, and then flexed his forearms. Three adamantium claws slid out of each fist, and he slammed them into the door, carving a hole where the locking mechanisms were. The door disengaged and slid open revealing a horrifying sight.

Aria was indeed awake, and the med bay was almost completely destroyed. The chief medical officer, Arthur Shapiro, was huddled in a corner with a kinetic barrier around him. He was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair that was more plastered to his head from sweating. Aria was in the middle of the med bay, biotic flames encompassing her very blue and very naked body. The smoldering remains of her medical gown were in a heap on the floor, presumably the first victim of her tantrum when she awoke. Logan saw that instead of the hardened, ruthless mask she would normally wear when exerting her authority in Omega, her face was open and terrified. Her biotics were whipping around the room, smashing into everything, causing varying degrees of destruction. She was completely out of control, and there was no telling what she would be capable of if she weren't taken down soon.

A lieutenant from Bravo team attempted to move in on Logan's right side, but he held out a hand to hold him back. "No," he whispered. "Back out. Let me deal with this. Just be ready in case she remembers she can blast me through the bulkhead."

"You want us ready to terminate her?" he asked while reaching for his sidearm. Logan smiled and said, "No, I want you to come and get me from outer space, dummy. It's cold out there, and I didn't bring a jacket."

Aria seemed to finally realize she was no longer the only one in the room with the doctor and fixed her wide, scared eyes on Logan. She raised a hand and a Flare shot out. Logan dodged to the left, with the Bravo lieutenant raising a Barricade to protect the squad and keep everything contained in the room. Logan rolled to his feet and launched himself at Aria, hoping she was too scared to have a Barrier of her own. Thankfully she didn't, and as he slammed a shoulder into her midsection, he heard a whoosh of air fly out of her. As they tumbled to the ground, her biotics shut down and she began to flail at him with her fists.

Logan straddled her, and grabbed her wrists in his hands, pinning her to the floor. She bucked underneath him, trying to get away, her eyes not focusing on any one thing for too long, looking for an escape route. She screamed in defiance and terror, as chilling a sound as the Banshees that the Reapers used during the war. "Aria!" Logan yelled at her, trying to get her to actually focus on him. "Aria, listen! It's me, Logan! You're on my ship! You're safe! Calm down!" She continued to struggle against, him, tears starting to flow from her eyes. _What the hell happened to you, girl?_ He thought as he let go of her wrists. He reached for her shoulders and slid off of her, bringing himself to a sitting position on the floor. He drew her into his arms, wrapping them around her as tightly as he could to keep her from shaking him off.

"C'mon, girl. You're stronger than this! Get it together." He whispered fiercely into her ear. She seemed to begin to relax, though he could still feel the tension in her body. Her skin was covered in goose bumps and she was shivering violently. He rubbed her back with his hands, trying to soothe her. "There ya go, blueberry." He whispered, as she started to relax. The tension in her body began to melt, and she moved herself closer in his embrace. He looked over at Shapiro, motioning with his eyes that he should try to sedate her again. Shapiro, to his credit, was already prepping a syringe and moving slowly towards them.

Logan gently held one of her arms in his hand to steady it for an injection. With the other hand, he slowly turned Aria's head towards his chest so she wouldn't see the needle coming. Shapiro knelt down next to them and quickly inserted the needle into her arm. Aria flinched at the needle, but otherwise stayed still in Logan's arms. Her breathing slowed and he could feel her heartbeat begin to come down to a normal rate. Shapiro moved away, retrieved another gown, and covered Aria up. Logan wrapped it around her, then shifted to scoop her up in his arms. He lay her down on a bed, stroking her cheek as she began to drift off again. Shapiro moved to the opposite side of the bed, running bio scans to make sure the sedation was working.

"I had to triple the dosage." He said. "Her biotics burned through the original doses I tried to use before." Logan looked at him and nodded. "Good job, doc. Way to hang in there."

"Yeah, well, just another day at the office, right?" he half smiled. He flicked a switch and a restraint field shimmered to life around her. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go puke my guts out, drink a bottle of whatever liquor I can find, puke some more and then pass out. I'm done."

Logan chuckled. "Okay, doc. I think we can handle it from here." The doctor nodded his thanks and turned around to leave. The lieutenant from Bravo stepped into the med bay. "Sir, you want us to stand down?"

He turned to him and shook his head. "No, I need you to post guards until Engineering comes and repairs the doors. Keep an eye on her till tomorrow. I'll be by to see her. Let me know if she wakes up before then."

"Aye, sir." He replied. Logan looked at him for a second. "Hey, two things: What's your name and who the hell was that kid from before?"

"Lieutenant Grayson Campagna, sir. And the new kid is Lieutenant JG Scott Summers." He replied. Logan did a double take at that. "'Summers'?"

Lt. Grayson nodded. "Yes sir, he's a recent transfer from the _Perugia_." Logan rubbed his face with his hand and sighed. "Send him in, LT.", he said through gritted teeth. Grayson turned and called for the kid. He came in with a look of terror on his face, and Logan could barely keep from laughing. He stepped towards him and said, "'Summers', huh? Your new name is 'Nancy', until I say otherwise. Is that clear?"

"Yessirthankyousir!" He rattled out. Logan saluted and the kid returned the salute, then turned and ran out of the med bay. The rest of the team filed out, with Grayson posting two members to guard the door. Logan turned and looked at Aria one more time before he walked out himself. As he left, he could hear her whispering in her sleep. His heightened hearing allowed him to pick it up from the door, and it chilled him to his bones. He turned back around to look at her, to see if she was awake again. She was still knocked out, but she was repeating the same thing over and over:

"She's on fire, why won't she burn? She's on fire, why won't she burn?"


	2. Chapter 2

A Justicar is a revered warrior with an existence that has been romanticized by those who are on the outside looking in. Hers is a life dedicated to a strict Code that enables her to act as judge, jury, and executioner. There are very few of them, as the training to become a justicar is grueling, and often lethal. Those who survive the trials and take their oaths are among the most feared warriors in the galaxy. Though they usually remain in Asari space, they can be seen venturing into other systems, chasing criminals and righting wrongs as they deem fit. Like the samurai of Feudal Japan on Earth, or the Knight Errant of England, they are legends.

Since the end of the Reaper War, Justicars were found to be scarce in number. The asari that had survived the assault of the reapers on Thessia were now dedicated to rebuilding their once proud society. For a matron to devote their lives to an ancient code of ethics and training, as was required of a justicar, was not very high on their priority list. Still, there were some who witnessed the exploits of the justicars and found themselves drawn to the power and romance of being a warrior with a galactic jurisdiction. After the war, if little asari girls didn't want to grow up to be the next Commander Jane Shepard, then they wanted to become justicars.

As far as Justicars went, it could now be said that Samara was rather laid-back. She still maintained the Code, and she was still very, very good at her job. But recent events in her long existence had caused her to reevaluate her views on her life. She began letting go of the reins every once in a while, still visiting her daughter Falere at the ardat-yakshi monastery on Lesuss, and maintaining contact with her compatriots from the Alliance frigate, the _SSV Normandy_. She mourned Shepards passing along with her crew, and promised not to abandon them, despite the ache she felt in her heart from reminders of the loss of such a young, dear friend. She maintained her cool, professional, almost regal stature when she was in public, but her private life had become another matter entirely. And so, when she received a call from an old friend, she found herself blushing like a maiden, which she would later chastise herself for. But for her Code, she may have very well, at one time, fallen in love with the man on the other end of the line.

"James," she smiled as Logan's face came into view on her vid screen. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

"You hear what went down yesterday?" Straight to business, then. Despite the lack of cordiality, she knew that something must have been troubling the younger man. He looked haggard, as if he hadn't been sleeping. He was chomping on yet another cigar, a habit she desperately wished he would break after all these years.

"Only whispers of something important, since most of what I imagine you are referring to is listed under your X-Division classification. What do you require of me?"

Logan blew out a plume of smoke and rubbed his face. He was very hesitant to continue. "Listen, ya know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important…"

Samara raised a hand and shook her hand. "James, we have known each other long enough that you should realize your requests are always considered important in my mind. Despite your less than open nature, both personally and professionally, I trust that you will not ask me to engage in any activity that will cause me to violate my oath and cause you bodily harm." She smiled, as he seemed to relax at this. "Please, ask what you will."

Logan took another puff of his cigar. "Can you meet me on the _Tai Shan_? We're still docked over here at Omega. I think this is actually something that would be right up your alley."

Samara arched an eyebrow. "Omega? A cesspool still, even after the war." She smirked slightly, looking to tease Logan a bit. "I trust that whatever has transpired there will actually be worthy of the attention of a fearsome justicar such as myself?"

Logan noticed her humor, but didn't return it. "Honey, if I could get a brigade of you gals, it might not be enough." He paused and let that sink in for her before continuing. "I can send someone to pick you up, if you need me to."

"That will not be necessary." She replied. "I have transport. It will take me four days to reach you. Will that be sufficient?"

"Don't worry, darlin'" he huffed. "We'll leave the light on for ya."

Samara nodded. "Very well. I will leave immediately. I look forward to seeing you then." She terminated the connection and smiled to herself. Logan still adhered to the ways of _bushido_, the Japanese code of honor, as often as he could. Since it was so similar to that of the justicar code, Samara felt a type of kinship with him. She knew that he would never ask anything of her that would violate her oath, thus making the acceptance of his request simple.

She turned and looked to her meager belongings. On the bed she was given, her daughter, Falere sat looking up at her.

"You're leaving?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, my daughter. I have been requested to fulfill my duties as a justicar." She leaned down and caressed her daughter's cheek with her hand. "I do not anticipate being gone for long."

"Well, just make sure that it's not another hundred years before you call me, okay?" she smiled. Samara laughed softly. "If I thought it would prevent me from returning to you again, I would not have accepted the invitation."

Falere rolled her eyes. "Yes you would. You're a justicar, it's what you live for." Her mother looked at her with infinite love in her eyes. "No, child. I _perform_ the duties of a justicar. I _am_ your mother. Although you don't realize it, I will always see you as my little girl, needing to be picked up and nurtured and told the monsters under her bed are going away…"

"Mother, I _am_ the 'monster under the bed', remember?" she smirked. Samara gave her a stern look. "Falere…"

"Okay, I'm kidding, mother." She held her hands up in defense. "Go on, I'll be fine. The other stewards are more than capable of handling one, lowly ardat-yakshi that doesn't want to go anywhere." Samara took a breath and held her arms open, inviting Falere to hug her. "Come, child. Let us say our goodbyes now, as I do not think I will be able to later."

Falere rose to meet her, encircling her arms around her mother's waist. Samara held her close and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, child. Never forget that."

"And I you, mother." Falere replied. "No go on and save the galaxy again."

* * *

_She dreamt of flying, soaring, dancing through the ether of space. Oh, how happy she was! Freedom and power, passion and hunger, she was beyond the comprehension of the little flames. The solar winds bent to her will. Stars warped out of existence, leaving black holes in their wake. She danced in pulsating nebulas and chased comets throughout the cosmos. The fire of creation and death balanced in her hands. The universe was a near limitless playground and she loved it. She could hear the screams, oh the delicious screams of souls in the throes of rapturous release. It was a release that she was becoming very good at sharing with the little ones, the young flames of the universe. _

_She spent so much time alone, in the darkness of the void, never thinking that She would find a companion. Then _they_ arrived, the soulless shells from dark space. They promised such fun, such love and entertainment for her. They showed her the way back to the light of the galaxy, and she followed them. For a brief moment, it appeared that she could be satiated, that she would partake in the release of trillions of souls. Then, some of the soulless shells drew around a bright flame, and were rebuffed! The soulless shells never counted on being turned away, and certainly not by a single flame! Oh, it was such bright a flame! She saw the flame and she knew, deep down, that this was what she was always waiting for. A companion for all time, someone who knew, just knew, exactly what she wanted. She would not let the flame die! No, she would save it, nurture it, make it whole again, she would make it dance and sing…._

_She would never be alone again._

_What. The. Hell?_

Aria startled awake, and tried to open her eyes, but found that they were slightly crusted over. It was the result of the tears she had cried when she first awoke in the med bay, but she didn't know that. In fact, she didn't remember anything after the horrific screaming that erupted on the dance floor of Afterlife. She attempted to recall the events that led her here. First, there were grumblings, then panicked shouting, then blood-chilling screams. She saw a burst of flame erupt in the middle of the club, then…nothing. She couldn't remember, and she felt as if it was a memory that was purposefully dancing beyond her reach. She growled in frustration, then she began to panic again as she realized that she was restrained.

Unable to move the rest of her body, she turned her head. In the dimly lit room there were sounds coming from the equipment and from what little she was able to actually see, she could tell she was in a medical facility of some sort. Where the facility was and how long she had been there for she didn't know. She knew it was an Alliance ship, and that alone was cause enough for her to want to be gone from it. She still felt the effects of the sedatives she had received, and couldn't access her biotics at all. Some of the equipment in the med bay looked as if a freight train had smashed through it. Apparently, someone had rigged what was left to monitor her vitals and maintain the restraint field on the bed. Someone thought she was special.

Bright light came pouring through an open door, and as she turned her head to see who was coming in, she squinted her eyes, as the brightness was too much for her eyes. A silhouette was framed in the doorway. She snarled and closed her eyes shut against the intruding light. She heard the door slide shut again, dropping the room into the dim light she first discovered upon waking.

"I see someone's awake." came a voice from the silhouette. "Surprising, seeing as I pumped you with enough sedative to drop a Krogan." Aria kept her eyes closed, trying to will the bright spots away from her vision. She could hear the person walking about the med bay, their steps sure and confident. It must be the doctor, or at the very least someone who belonged here. She felt herself relax a bit at that thought. Hopefully it wasn't someone who was still going to do her harm. She couldn't be held responsible for what she would do to anyone trying to attack her here.

"Where am I?" she managed to croak out. Her throat was raw, her mouth dry from the screaming she did the previous night. The unidentified person must have noticed, as they came over to her bedside with a cup of water and a straw.

"You, dear, are on board the illustrious Alliance dreadnought _Tai Shan_, commanded by one Captain Alonso Jennings." He leaned the straw to her mouth, and she grudgingly accepted it. "Don't worry, it's just water. Anyway, I'm Doctor Shapiro, Chief Medical Officer. You were brought in last night and had a bit of an…_episode_, let's call it." He smiled at her and then called out, "Lights to forty percent." The lights came up slowly, just enough to allow Aria to get a look at the man.

"_Tai Shan_?" she asked. "Why does that sound familiar?" Shapiro shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. Maybe we were on a combat report you saw during the Reaper War? Or maybe it's just a nice name that you like? Or…."

It came to her. "_Howlett_." She scowled. "This is _his_ ship, isn't it? What's with the other captain?"

Shapiro furrowed his brow for a bit, then his face lit up in realization. "Oh, Captain Howlett _is_ on this ship, but Captain Jennings is the commanding officer. Howlett is the captain of a special ops unit, which is also on board this ship. They are equal, but in different departments, I guess is the way to explain it."

Aria took another sip of water and swallowed with a grimace. "Fine, whatever. Let me out." She said through the grimace of pain she wore. Her throat was raw enough that swallowing was going to be a chore for a while.

Shapiro smiled at her, and then he looked at a control panel next to the bed. The restraint barrier was at full strength, so he felt safe enough to continue performing his duties properly. "Well, let's just wait a minute on that, miss. I want to run some tests to make sure your biotics are within normal parameters before I let you out. You did a fair amount of damage last night not being in control."

Aria tensed under the restraints, her eyes narrowing. "Little boy, let me up now or I'll show you what kind of damage I can do." She managed to flex her hand, and biotic flames began to cover her body. The restraint field expanded to try to contain the energy, and the monitors all lit up with warning lights and noises. Shapiro stepped back from her, dropping the cup and raising his hands.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Wait a minute! Let me hit the switch!" he shouted as he slapped the restraint control. The field shimmered and deactivated, and the biotic energy dissipated. Shapiro kept his hands raised to show he was unarmed and not making any aggressive moves. Aria sat up on the bed, then swung her feet down to the floor. She advanced on the doctor, her gown barely clinging to her body. She grabbed the doctor by the front of his uniform and brought him closer to her.

"Two things: One, get me my damned clothes." She snarled.

"Oh, oh, okay! Wh-what's 'two'?" Shapiro stammered.

Aria smiled and he felt ice form in his veins. "Bring me Howlett."

* * *

Logan knelt in the middle of his room, eyes closed, breathing deeply and slowly with his hands clenched into fists and resting on his thighs. His meditation had been relaxing, though not as restorative as a full night's sleep. He wasn't able to get back to sleep after the episode in the med bay, so he made a couple of calls. The forensics teams were first, getting them prepared to revisit Omega in the morning to continue investigating the lower levels and the apartment blocks. He was praying that there would be more survivors, and he wanted to be absolutely sure that he left no stone unturned. The death toll was gnawing at him. A small planet's worth of people gone, with no obvious cause of death, motive or suspects. Well, there could be one suspect, but from what he knew of Aria, she would rather find a way to subjugate the people of Omega than kill them. At least, he hoped that was the case.

The next call was to Samara and that was the most productive. He knew that her almost one thousand years of experience would prove invaluable, and he didn't mind seeing her again. His history with the justicar wasn't public knowledge, as it was part of his time before formally joining the Alliance. It was an ace in the hole for him, and he was hoping it would pay off in the end. She would also have access to other resources that would be helpful. Those resources would be more willing to help a justicar than an Alliance officer, even if it was a black ops officer such as himself.

He took one more deep breath and opened his eyes. A quick flex of his forearms and his claws slid out, a slow scraping sound coming from his fists as the metal claws rubbed against the metal bones in his hands. They were retracted the same way, the open wounds between his knuckles healing instantly. Rotating his neck, and cracking the vertebrae he hopped up to his feet. Moving to his locker he retrieved a fresh set of BDU's, getting dressed and grabbing his old leather jacket. A hand dipped into his sparse weapons locker rewarded him with a Carnifex hand cannon. He checked the thermal clip and safety, and then holstered it to the magnetic clip at the small of his back. Logan rarely used firearms, but he recently began to carry at least one sidearm to cover his bases. He replenished his stash of cigars in the interior pocket, along with a pack of honest to goodness wooden matches.

"Captain Howlett, please report to the Ready Room. Captain Howlett, please report to the Ready Room." Came the call over the comm system. Logan ran a hand through his short grey hair and sighed. "Ain't even got breakfast yet.", he grumbled to himself. "This is Howlett. Be there in a minute."

A quick detour to the mess hall for a cup of coffee and he made his way to the upper decks and the captain's ready room. He passed several members of his team and nodded his hellos to them. Logan made his way along the bridge and turned to enter the captains Ready Room. He remembered Peter and Kitty always watching that sci-fi show on television so long ago. Everyone had to go to the Ready Room on it, to plan missions or continue private conversations. This room fulfilled the same function, and he wondered just how much TV the designers of this ship watched when they were younger.

As the doors parted, he was faced with a sight he did not expect. Captain Jennings was suspended in mid-air, covered by biotic energy. His face was fixed in a mask of annoyance. One would think he would be angry or terrified by the predicament he was in, but it seemed as though he adjusted to it very quickly. He turned as Logan entered the room and let out an audible sigh. "Thanks for gracing us with your presence, Captain. I assume this is one of your friends?"

Dropping his coffee cup, Logan reached behind him as it splattered on the floor and drew his Carnifex, disengaging the safety and pointing it at the captain's assailant. Aria, now fully clothed in her usual outfit, held her hand in the air, biotic energy coalescing around her. She turned to face Logan and smiled. "Hi there, Logan. Did you miss me?"

"Not at this range, I won't." he snarled. He circled towards her, as Aria mirrored his movements, keeping the captain suspended in the air between them. "Drop him before I drop you, Aria."

Aria laughed, and it made the hairs on the back of Logan's neck stand up. "Logan, if you were going to shoot me, you would have done it by now. No, I think I'll keep your friend here as our chaperone while we have a little chat."

Logan saw that this was a no-win situation. If he made a move, she could toss both him and the captain through a bulkhead and into space, or crush him into jelly if he so wanted. A security detail would never make it on time to subdue her, so it was up to him. He would have to wait and see what it was she wanted and look for an opening. It would be a small one, he knew, so he had to be alert and be quick to capitalize on it when it arose.

He deactivated his Carnifex and holstered it. "Fine," he growled as he put his hands up. "What do you want?"

"It's simple, really: take me home and no one dies." She said sweetly. In contrast, she tightened the hold she had on Jennings, causing him to grunt in pain. Logan looked up at the man worriedly, but Jennings shook his head as if to say _no_. The captain was going to tough it out until Logan could get a handle on things.

Logan turned back to Aria, absently feeling around in his jacket pocket for a cigar. "Sorry, darlin'. No can do. Right now, Omega is one biiiiiig crime scene, and I don't need you there." He found his cigar and then reached for his matches. Aria didn't flinch at his movements, supremely confident that she still had the upper hand.

"Logan, don't try my patience. Omega is always a crime scene. We just toss the refuse aside and keep moving. Now get me back." Aria said with as patient as voice as she could manage. Something was tickling around the back of her head when she spoke of returning to Omega, but she pushed it aside to focus on the rough looking man in front of her.

Logan sighed and took out a match. He struck it against a nearby bulkhead, igniting the head of the match. "Girl, when I said 'crime scene', I meant 'Crime Scene' with a capital 'C' and 'S'." He was lifting the lit match to the cigar in between his lips when he looked at Arias face. It had gone deathly pale, her eyes wide open and her mouth agape. Her control over the biotic field she was using to trap Captain Jennings failed, and he fell to the floor. Instead, all of her focus was on the match in Logan's hand.

"Security to the Ready Room!" Jennings shouted into the comm microphone. He turned to Logan. "You got her?"

Logan was still holding the lit match, but he was looking confusedly at Aria, who had now shrunk down into a corner of the room. She was terrified of the flame of the match, and would not take her eyes from it. As he moved the match, her eyes followed, and he could hear her begin to whimper a bit as he got closer to her with it. He got directly in front of her and squatted down, holding the match between them. She clawed at the wall, trying to scoot further against the wall away from Logan and the match. Logan reached out to touch her, and once he made contact her eyes darted from the match to his hand. She began to keen, rocking back and forth, terror still covering her face.

"Yeah, Jennings. I got her." He said. "Get Shapiro up here along with the security team and Campagna from Bravo Company." Jennings nodded and made the requested calls as Logan shook out the match, dousing the flame. Aria, looking like a terrified little child, turned her gaze to his face. She was shaking, her mouth opening and closing with no sounds coming out.

"Hey, you okay?" he heard Jennings ask. Logan nodded and said, "Yeah, I'm good. Can't say the same for the Queen here, though." He placed his hands on Arias shoulders and looked directly into her face. She looked at him and seemed to finally recognize him again. "Hey, girl. It's okay." He whispered.

Aria lunged at him, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling herself into his arms. "No, Logan. It's not okay. Not at all." She whimpered. "I saw her. In the flames, that's where I saw her again. She was so angry, so beautiful and awful and full of hate and love and vengeance."

Logan took a hand and lifted her face up to his. "Saw 'who', Aria? Who did you see again?"

Aria began to sob, hot tears streaming down her face as Dr. Shapiro, Lt. Campagna and the security team arrived. Jennings motioned for them to stand down as Logan wiped the tears from Arias face.

"Nyreen, Logan. I saw Nyreen Kandros again."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Kandros, Nyreen. Age: thirty-eight. Born to father Kavalo and mother Taneez Kandros, members of one of the more respected turian military families. Discharged from active military duty once it became known that she was a biotic, which is somewhat frowned upon in the turian military. Transferred to a Cabal Unit without much forward momentum made in her career."

Lt. Campagna rattled off the intelligence they had gathered. The vid display showed a turian female with a white face and red tribal paint. Logan, Captain Jennings, Lieutenant Campagna and Dr. Shapiro were gathered in the ready room. Aria had been taken back to the med bay for observation, having gone into an almost catatonic state after mentioning the name of her tormentor.

Logan looked at the screen. "Says here she went AWOL from the Cabal unit she was assigned to in 2180. There's nothing more about her from her superiors. Anything from more un-official channels?"

Campagna hit a button on his Omni-tool and the screen showed some fuzzy security footage. On the screen, it showed a hooded figure dropping from the shadows and dispatching several Blue Sun mercs with a combination of traditional weapons and biotics. "This is footage you supplied from the recordings sent by your Shadow Broker contact." Jennings looked at Logan with a raised eyebrow. Logan smiled and waggled his eyebrows in return. "Rumor had it that she was working on Omega for a few years, Robin Hood kind of thing. Once Omega went dark during the Reaper War, we lose her. Don't know if it was some random thing, Cerberus occupancy or if she just went completely off grid."

Logan snorted. "She must have been killed during the war. If she was just living off grid, my contact would have told me." Again, Jennings looked at Logan with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Alonso. You think I got here by selling Girl Scout cookies? I know my way around the shadowy underbelly of society."

"Mmm, I miss Thin Mints." Shapiro muttered to no one in particular. Logan looked at him and shook his head. He turned back to Campagna and said, "What about the Cerberus connection?"

"Initial reports from the occupancy by Cerberus troops indicated that she was a person of interest. We weren't able to get much else out of the captured leader, General Oleg Petrovsky, before his ocular flash bang implant ignited and killed him." Campagna scrolled through another page and concluded, "It was remote detonated, not a suicide."

"Awesome." Logan smirked as he looked at the picture of Petrovsky on the screen. "The room wasn't shielded?"

"During the Reaper Wars? Nah, I don't think they were worrying about shielding against remote detonation signals when there were Destroyer-Class ships banging on the door." Campagna responded. "They made the adjustments since then."

"Great, now I can sleep at night." Logan dragged a hand over his face. "Okay, Doc, Campy, go check on the patient. Grab Nancy and take him with you." He noticed Captain Jennings giving him a concerned look. "It's what I call the Summers kid. Don't ask."

Jennings rolled his eyes and looked at the doctor. "What about this Kandros woman? It seems she has become a focal point for Aria's 'episodes'. Can we hit her up for information yet?"

"According to the tests we've been running, well, the tests she's allowed us to run anyway, she's lucid and responsive." Shapiro replied. He scrolled through some information on a datapad and continued. "I don't know if we can count on a full psych evaluation at this point, as she may flip out."

"'Flip out'? Is that a medical term, Doc?" Campagna asked with a smile.

"Yes it is. Look it up. Right after 'Crazy Chick' and before 'Harpy From Hell'." He deadpanned. Jennings cleared his throat loudly and said, "All right, get on it you two. Let me know what you find out." The doctor and soldier turned and left the room, with Logan following after them.

"Uh-uh, Howlett. Come on back here." Jennings said. Logan stopped in mid-stride and spun around to face the other captain. "We need to talk, James."

Logan sighed and let his shoulders slump. "Look, Dad, it was just gonna be a few friends, some pizza and video games. I didn't know Tommy was gonna bring the booze!" He whined as he moved to a nearby chair and slumped down into it. He threw his feet up on the table and leaned back, looking as though he knew what was coming next.

Jennings sat down across from him. "Look, James. I know that Division-X or X-Division, or whatever you want to call it, I know it makes you an Alliance SpecTRE. But this is still _my_ ship, not yours." He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, blowing out a deep breath before looking back at him and continuing. "Despite the initial findings, Aria T'Loak is still a suspect in this, and we can't sit here babysitting her for the rest of the week."

"She's our best shot at an eyewitness for what happened, Alonso." Logan replied. "Forensics is still trying to piece together what little security footage they were able to recover from Afterlife and the surrounding establishments. Once we get a handle on that, we'll have a better idea on what our next step should be."

"I know this is a unique case, James, but we simply cannot continue playing this with kid gloves." Alonso said. He glanced down at his Omni-tool and pulled up a profile. "She's been implicated in several major drug trafficking and even sex trafficking operations, assassinations, outright murders in broad daylight, I mean, she is not the one you bring home to meet your mom, buddy."

Logan's blood started boiling a little at this. "What's your point? We all know she ain't perfect. I got that. She's still all we got to work with."

"Why are you so protective of her? And before I forget, what the hell is this crap about the Shadow Broker?"

Logan looked away, finding something interesting on the wall to look at. "I told you, I wasn't always such a fine, upstanding member of the community. Things need to get fixed, problems solved, supplies collected, you do what you need to do."

"Well that may have flown during the war, but I cannot endorse criminal activity on an Alliance vessel, regardless of whatever special privileges you have, James." Alonso stood up and went to his desk on the other side of the room. "The moment she becomes a danger to this crew, she gets spaced, comprende?"

Logan looked at Jennings, narrowing his eyes. "This all because she got the drop on you in here, Alonso? How _did_ that happen, by the way?"

"She had Shapiro with her, held him with a laser scalpel and forced him to access the room."

"You had to know she was only using you as bait, right?" Logan asked.

"Being used by women is nothing new to me, James. Just ask my two ex-wives. It's just the thought of a homicidal criminal doing it that bothers me. Get a move on and get this solved, okay?"

Logan stood up and saluted the other captain. "Yes sir." He turned and left the room without waiting for a return of his salute. As the door to the room slid closed, he made his way to the elevator. Why had Jennings' assessment of Aria bothered him so much? She _was_ a criminal, a kingpin, and a pirate queen by her own admission. Normally, he would run her down and throw her in a cell for the rest of her lifespan for the crap she's done. Yet, hearing it said by someone else bothered him to no end.

As he entered the lift and hit the button for the crew deck, he sighed. He knew the reason, and he hated it. It was something he had struggled with for years, something even his healing factor couldn't help him with. As the lift slowly made its way upward, he leaned back against the wall, knocking his head against it slowly and repeatedly. Blue skinned women were nothing but trouble in his experience. This one was slowly becoming the most troublesome of all.

* * *

She had only been gone for a day, and already Falere missed her mother. She was four hundred years old, but thanks to being spoiled by her mother's almost constant presence following the War, she felt like a little child again. She enjoyed the daily talks with Samara, getting a chance to reclaim what she had missed out on for so long not having a motherly figure in her life. The sacrifices of a justicar were far reaching, and they affected everyone in their families. This was why it was often frowned upon for those who wished to become a justicar to have a family.

She moved through the courtyard, enjoying the afternoon sun and the cool breeze. The custodians of the monastery went about their routines, trimming topiaries and cleaning the grounds. As the currently last ardat-yakshi, she was still in need of supervision, but it was barely warranted. She kept to her room for the most part, and when she moved about the rest of the complex, she was never far from a custodian with a Disciple shotgun strapped to their hip. Even if she wanted to cause trouble, she would be overwhelmed within seconds. She would probably still survive, killing most of them, but she would not escape unscathed, and she would still have her mother to deal with afterwards. That was a thought that she refused to entertain.

Walking along the path to the garden, she noticed another Asari standing near the high wall overlooking the valley below the monastery. She wasn't dressed as the custodians, and she did not know of any other Asari afflicted with the mutation that made them ardat-yakshi. She looked around for any of the custodians to request assistance. Curiously, none were present.

"Excuse me?" she called out to the stranger cautiously. She did not turn to face her, but rather kept looking out at the valley. "Is there someone you are here to see?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is someone I am dying to see." Her voice lilted on the breeze, sweet as honey. Despite the apparent lack of malice in her voice, the stranger still made Falere extremely uneasy. "Perhaps you can help me."

"Um, okay, but maybe one of the custodians can help you. I'll go get one, and they'll be here soon."

"Oh, there's no need for that, young one." The stranger said, sweet and yet horrifying at the same time. Falere felt her gut twist at her voice, and suddenly her feet refused to move. She was frozen in place as the stranger turned to face her. "After all, you're here now."

Falere felt the blood drain from her face. Her heart slammed inside her chest and her mouth was full of ash. She was staring into the eyes of someone she should not have seen again, as they had been dead for years now.

"You…. you're alive?"

"Yes, sister. I am."

* * *

Dr. Shapiro was starting to think that he would need to sedate himself on a regular basis if things kept going the way they were on this ship. Captains Howlett and Jennings seemed to be taking Aria's attempted hostage stand off in stride, but he was not handling it well. He was the one on the other end of the laser scalpel she had taken to 'motivate' him with. The extremes to which he had seen the woman bounce back and forth from, and the speed at which she did it were mind-boggling. It would have been more fascinating than terrifying if he had not been the recipient of her anger two days in a row.

Now, seeing her sitting in the med bay (again) with her knees tucked up to her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs, he saw her as a scared little girl. Just under an hour ago, she had been threatening to do all sorts of all horrible things to him with that laser scalpel. Now, he had to treat her as if she were simply having a nightmare about the monsters under her bed. He needed a vacation.

"Need a break doc?" Campagna asked from his side while sipping on a cup of coffee. Shapiro jumped a little, being startled by his unannounced presence. Campagna smiled, his light blue eyes twinkling mischievously as he looked in on Aria himself through the observation port. Lt. Summers was standing guard at the door, fingering his sidearm and shifting slightly from foot to foot. Given the situation, it was understandable for him to be a bit jumpy. Aria was not someone to take lightly, even with her being in a compromised mental state.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do need a break." Shapiro responded after regaining his composure. "I am not a combat medic. I don't know how you guy handle this stuff out in the field, but I'm ready to hand in my resignation in a minute."

Campagna smiled. "Aww, come on, doc. It can't be all that bad. She did let you live, you know. You should count yourself lucky."

Shapiro snorted. "Really? Lucky like that poor bastard you have locked up in there with the Pirate Queen?"

"What, Summers? He's fine, just a little anxious, that's all." Campagna said, waving the doc off. "Besides, it's really all for show. From what you said about her emotional state, and the drugs you pumped her full of, She's about as dangerous as a wet noodle."

"So why aren't you in there guarding her, big boy?" Logan asked as he smacked Campagna in the back of his head. "You sent Nancy in there? Wow, I thought I was evil."

Nursing the back of his head, Campagna replied, "Well, I thought it was something you would do, sir."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, kid. Unless you have a Cuban cigar to go along with it?" Campagna shook his head. ""Well, better off anyway. Nasty habit, those cigars." He reached out and took the coffee cup from the lieutenant's hand. He took a sip and violently spit it out. Looking at the cup in horror he asked, "What the hell kind of coffee is this, kid?"

"It's a soy latte, sir." He replied sheepishly. "I'm lactose intolerant."

He handed the cup back to the lieutenant. "I'm gonna 'soy' your 'latte', you nut job. Go get some real coffee for me. I'm going inside."

Shapiro walked over to Logan and led him away from the retreating biotic soldier by his arm. "Captain, a word please?"

"Sure, doc, what's up?"

"Her mental state is still in question, sir. Even with the sedatives I gave her again, I would feel much more at ease if you went in there and kept a solider with you."

Logan smirked at the other man. "Doc, you worrying too much again?" he patted the doctor on the back before making his way to the door for the med bay. "Relax. I always know what I'm doing sometimes."

As he walked towards the door and it slid open, Logan tapped Summers on his left shoulder, and then scooted to the right. Summers turned to his left and found no one there, then returned to his original position. He jumped back and yelped in shock as he found himself face to face with Logan.

"Boo!" he snarled as Summers recoiled from his intrusion. "Sleepin' on the job, Nancy?"

"N-no sir!" he stammered his reply as he scrambled to regain his composure.

"Good. Would hate to see you end up a smear on the wall because you were less than vigilant, what with all the regulations you need to follow." He looked down and saw that Summers had drawn his pistol, released the safety and set it for Inferno Ammo. "You want to secure that sidearm?"

Summers looked down and quickly holstered his weapon. _Good reflexes on this one_, Logan thought. _Gotta do something about that name, though_. "Sorry, sir. Won't happen again, sir." Summers stated as he stood at attention.

"At ease, kid. You're relieved." Logan dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Go meet up with the rest of your team and have them go over the Orientation Packet with you. Pay close attention to the section 'Captain Howlett's Rules To Live By'."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He snapped a salute to Logan, which was returned, and then he spun on his heel and walked briskly out of the room. Logan saw through the port that once he thought he was out of visual range, Summers took off in a sprint for the elevator. He chuckled to himself. _Still got it, Howlett._ He thought as he smiled.

Logan walked into the room and let the door slide closed behind him. Aria didn't look at him to acknowledge his presence. She simply continued to rock back and forth, staring into space. He reached over to the controls on the wall and dimmed the lights slightly, reducing the sterile glare of the med bay. Walking over to her, he noticed that she was humming to herself, not just some noise, but a definite melody.

"Sounds nice." He said softly as he sidled up to the bed and sat down. "What is it?"

Aria looked up at him finally, the hardness slowly coming back to her face, but not quite reaching her eyes. "Don't you recognize it?"

Logan arched and eyebrow in confusion. "Should I recognize it? Is it some Asari lullaby?"

Aria chuffed and turned her away from facing him. "It's _Underneath It All_ from that human group, No Doubt. It runs around in my head every few months or so. I thought it was your favorite song or something."

Logan shook his head. "Darlin', I haven't heard that song in, wow, like a hundred years or so. That's only cuz a friend of mine couldn't stop playing it over and over again." He laughed softly to himself. "Yeah, Kitty loved that album. Made me sick hearing it so much, but she loved it."

Aria looked at Logan, her usual mask making itself at home on her face. "You stupid bastard. You have no idea what you did to me, do you?"

Logan tilted his head slightly and asked, "What do you mean?"

Aria huffed and looked up at the ceiling, blowing out a breath harshly. When she looked at him again, she whispered, "You screwed me up, and I can't help but want to forgive you. But, dammit, beating you senseless might make me feel better too."

Logan turned to her with a puzzled look on his face. "Screwed you up? How the hell did I do that to you?"

Aria looked at him through narrowed eyes. "You mean to tell me you haven't felt it? All this time, you don't know what I'm talking about?"

He knew. Logan looked away, staring at the floor. "You mean the dreams? The half images and memories you jammed into my head when you tried melding with me before?" He looked up at her and whispered, "Your half-cocked attempt at a meld ruined me for anyone else too, you know. I didn't appreciate that very much."

Aria lunged at him, grabbing his jacket and turning him to face her. "What about what _you_ did to _me_? You have any idea how many cigars I smoked after you left? How many nights I screamed myself out of my sleep from nightmares? I have _never_ cried over anyone before, NEVER! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" she screamed at him before dissolving into a sobbing wretch again. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, nuzzling the top of her head with his chin.

"Sorry, darlin'" he said, "I truly am. I want to deal with this, get it settled between us. Unfortunately, we need to table this for a minute and talk about Omega and this Kandros girl you saw earlier." He reached down and cupped her chin in his hand, bringing her head up to look at him. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips and said, "Once we get this straightened out, you can yell at me all you want. Deal?"

Aria licked her lips and nodded. She withdrew from his arms and sat up on the bed, the Queen of Omega returning to face him. "Question and Answer Time." She stated.

Logan nodded and took one of her hands in his. "I need you to be honest so we can figure out what happened, okay?" Aria nodded and he continued. "What can you tell me about what happened on Omega?"

* * *

"So, Falere. How is our mother?" Rila asked as they walked along the courtyard path. Falere was still stunned, having last seen her sister in the lethal embrace of a Banshee three years ago. Yet here she was, alive and well, strolling beside her as if nothing had ever happened. She was certain that she was hallucinating now, a possibly as yet unknown side effect of an ardat-yakshi not melding with another being for so long? She did not know, but that was not as terrifying as the fact that not a single custodian had come to see the new visitor to their facility.

"M-mother is fine, Rila." She answered hesitantly. "You actually just missed her. She left about a day ago on some justicar assignment."

Rila smiled and sighed to herself. "Ah, yes, the ever busy and exciting life of a justicar. Tell me, sister," she turned to face Falere, an edge creeping into her voice. "Did mother mourn my passing? Did you?"

Falere stood with her mouth agape. "Of course we did, sister! Mother was distraught, and I was inconsolable! She almost joined you moments after we escaped the bomb in the Great Hall!"

Rila paused at this. "Truly? How so?"

Falere took a breath, the memory still haunting in her mind. "The monastery was ruined by the explosion you set off, and I was the last ardat-yakshi. The law states that no ardat-yakshi is allowed to live outside the walls of the monastery. Mother was honor bound to slay me if the monastery fell, but she refused to bury another daughter." Her breath began to hitch as she recalled the look of sadness on Samara's face as she drew her sidearm and placed the muzzle against her own head. "She was ready to end her own life, rather than fulfill the Code and kill me."

"Then why didn't she?" Rila asked, darkness clouding her features. "Why not end her life to spare her precious Falere?"

"Commander Shepard stopped her. She grabbed her and kept her from ending her own life. I convinced mother that I would be able to remain here on my own until the Matriarchs could assign new custodians, provided they survived the war with the Reapers." Falere stepped back from Rila, feeling a chill in her body as her sister paused to process this information.

"Commander Shepard? Hmm, it may be time I had a chat with that human." Rila whispered. "Sister, where is the good Commander?"

"She died defeating the Reapers, Rila." She replied. "They constructed a massive weapon that destroyed all synthetic life. The Geth and the Reapers no longer exist."

Rila shrugged her shoulders and turned away from her, finding something interesting on the horizon. "Another flame snuffed out by those soulless creatures. How sad. Still," she turned back and faced her sister, "I suppose these things must come to pass. Sister, I was wondering if you would grant me a favor?"

Falere felt a definite sense of dread fill her stomach. What could the ghost of her dead sister want from her? "Of course, Rila. What do you need?"

Rila stretched her arms out to either side, taking in a deep breath and exhaling with a smile. "Oh, I missed this: the stretching, breathing, living, all of the things that I have been deprived of for far too long. Yes, yes, do me a favor and tell mother that I will be waiting for her, that I do look forward to seeing her again soon." With this, a light began to glow in the middle of her chest and blue flames erupted from it, engulfing her. Falere threw an arm up to shield herself, erecting a Barrier.

"Until then, my dear sister!" Rila shouted above the rushing of the air around her. The flames spread out across the courtyard, flowing like water over Falere's Barrier. Then, in an instant, the flames snuffed themselves out and Rila was nowhere to be seen.

"By the Goddess, what was that?!" Falere whispered. She looked around to see that she was alone again, and dropped her Barrier. She spun around another time to be sure, and then she sprinted towards the main doors. She lashed out with a Shockwave and smashed them open, not wanting to wait for them to open. With any luck, a custodian would be on the other side and want to know what was going on.

As she crossed the threshold she looked around and skidded to a halt. All around the main hall, custodians were strewn about, limp ragdolls tossed aside to be played with no longer. She crept towards one of them that she recognized, a young woman named Tanazi. She had a look of absolute terror frozen on her face, her eyes staring off into space. Falere reached down and felt her neck for a pulse, and withdrew her hand quickly once she found that there was none.

She stood up and looked around her, death meeting her gaze everywhere she turned. She screamed, terror gripping her heart and she knew, just knew, that everyone else in the facility was dead. She fell to her knees, weeping for the dead, for herself, and for her mother. If this truly was Rila returned from beyond, Samara would have to destroy her for her actions here. She would lose her sister again, no matter what.

She would also have to break her mothers heart with her own actions, as she would have to leave the planet to get to her mother and help her. She refused to sit here amongst the dead for a second time to let her mother face unknown danger without her.

She ran to her room, dodging the victims strewn about the hallways and staircases. She quickly gathered some of her belongings and an Omni-tool. Activating it, she located the nearest shuttle, docked on the other side of the complex. She knew she wouldn't be able to use the monastery's comm system to contact Samara, since she had no hacking skills whatsoever. She would have to wait until she left the planet to send a distress call for her. She prayed that it would be her mother that registered the call, and not another commando unit, or it would be a very short trip.

* * *

She watched as a lone shuttle sputtered into the air, gaining momentum and preparing to leave the planet. She saw the glow of a little flame begin to emerge from the cockpit of the shuttle as it launched itself into space. She smiled, realizing she had just fostered the birth of a new flame in the galaxy. She hugged herself, floating into the air, spinning and laughing with joy and insanity. Soon, another flame to consume would be ready, and her time would continue in the universe.


End file.
